Deadly Exchange

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Running against the wind.
Bob Seger

Mona was sitting on a flat, moss-covered rock next to a brook in a picturesque garden, surrounded by plush greenery and soft purple violets. In the distance, she could hear a waterfall. A fine mist wafted across the garden and moistened her face like the kiss of a tender lover.

She dipped her finger in the sparkling water while watching a leaf sail aimlessly around in a miniature whirlpool. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a movement-a flash of yellow. She squinted as she looked up into the streaming sunlight filtering through the leaves. The object darted and danced, then drifted silently downward toward her. As it escaped the grasp of the sunbeam and floated clearly into view, she smiled as she recognized a yellow butterfly. Mona extended her arm inviting it to land. The butterfly hesitated, hovered cautiously, and then softly settled on the tip of her thumb, its wings undulating in a fluid, rhythmic motion.

A baby's despondent cry from beyond the garden caused Mona's hand to twitch. She snapped her head in the direction of the sound, frightening the butterfly and causing it to become a blur once more.

"Little John!" she cried out. Her eyes widened as she jumped to her feet and ran down the path in the direction of the cry. "Where are you, sweetheart? I'm coming, Mommy's coming."

She stumbled down the narrow path. Low branches raked her face. Tangled vines slowed her progress like giant sticky fingers on her body. Fear swelled up within her. The more she struggled, the more she felt as if she were getting nowhere. The crying faded and turned into a whimper. Then there was silence. She twisted loose from the clawing vines and burst into a circular clearing surrounded by tall pine trees. She crossed the clearing and hesitated in front of a huge cave that was chiseled out of a skull-like rock. Her eyes searched frantically for some sign of her child. She held her breath, straining to hear any sound that might lead her to her son.

A soft, pathetic cry echoed from deep within the blackness of the cave. As she rushed into the cave, a cold blast of air sent a chill through her body. The floor of the cave was damp and slippery. There was a musty odor permeating the air; it was like the smell of putrefying flesh. Mona ran deeper into the darkness of the cavern. She heard the baby's cry turn into a tortured scream.

"Help me!" Mona cried. "Help me, please. It's so dark..."

"Mona! Mona, honey," a voice came from outside her dream. She awoke to find John stroking her face.

She reached out and grabbed him. Her nails dug into his arms. "John, oh, John! It was so horrible! I could hear little John crying for me! He was in this awful cold, dark cave, and I couldn't find him. He needs me, John! I can feel it. Why can't we do something?"

John rocked her gently. After awhile, Mona fell asleep in his arms. She's not holding up very well, he thought as he gazed off into the darkness. What can I expect? She doesn't know that I have the same fears that we may never see our baby again. The longer we go without finding him, the less chance there is of seeing him again. John found his throat tightening as he looked at Mona. One thing for sure, she must never find out how I feel. I have to be strong for her! But, dear God, how can I continue this way?